[ As he presses Wolfwood's hand to his lips, he can feel joy and approval radiating from the other Vash, warm at the back of his mind. He knows better than to expect forgiveness for his planned action – the best he could possibly hope for is silence – so the feelings of what he would call satisfaction and safety come as a real shock. It feels like acceptance, like family, and it's been so long since he had warm and comfort as a part of his feelings of family. He lets himself sink into the sensation, buffeted between a brother's compassion and the vast maelstrom of desire he feels for the man at his side.
Something shifts, between one heartbeat and the next, and suddenly Wolfwood is speaking, has been speaking for some time. He's losing time, Vash realizes, turning his hand to lay Wolfwood's palm against his cheek, and laying his own against Wolfwood's. The day has finally caught up to him – to them both, if Wolfwood's murmurings againinst his shoulder are any indication – and that means he doesn't have much time left. Enough words, then.
He closes his eyes as his lips touch Wolfwood's, putting everything he wants to say into that gentle kiss, willing – sending, really, shouting to the whole world – for Wolfwood to knows how loved he is. How cherished, how beautiful, how needed. Vash is alive because of this man. Vash knows what love is – fiery, possessive, desperate – because of this man. The grief at their separation, both the loss that was redeemed and the loss that's yet to come, is tearing his heart out, because Wolfwood – because Nick – is his heart. He's the reason there's blood in Vash's veins and breath in his lungs, the reason he fights on when he just wants to stop. This man is the reason he lived so long. This man is the reason he wishes he could live longer.
He let this man into the core of himself, let him see how, even with bloody hands and a soiled heart, so much goodness still shines through. It's all he can do. Please let it be enough.
Live and be happy, please. You deserve happiness. ]
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Something shifts, between one heartbeat and the next, and suddenly Wolfwood is speaking, has been speaking for some time. He's losing time, Vash realizes, turning his hand to lay Wolfwood's palm against his cheek, and laying his own against Wolfwood's. The day has finally caught up to him – to them both, if Wolfwood's murmurings againinst his shoulder are any indication – and that means he doesn't have much time left. Enough words, then.
He closes his eyes as his lips touch Wolfwood's, putting everything he wants to say into that gentle kiss, willing – sending, really, shouting to the whole world – for Wolfwood to knows how loved he is. How cherished, how beautiful, how needed. Vash is alive because of this man. Vash knows what love is – fiery, possessive, desperate – because of this man. The grief at their separation, both the loss that was redeemed and the loss that's yet to come, is tearing his heart out, because Wolfwood – because Nick – is his heart. He's the reason there's blood in Vash's veins and breath in his lungs, the reason he fights on when he just wants to stop. This man is the reason he lived so long. This man is the reason he wishes he could live longer.
He let this man into the core of himself, let him see how, even with bloody hands and a soiled heart, so much goodness still shines through. It's all he can do. Please let it be enough.
Live and be happy, please. You deserve happiness. ]